


Perfect Gifts

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Presents, Romance, Sentimental, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: The reader wants to give Dean the perfect present for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Gifts

You'd gone through every possible option you could think of, down to trapping and interrogating Sam. But you were still stuck. It was three days until Christmas and you hadn't gotten Dean a single thing. You knew he had a present picked out, and knowing him it was sexy lingerie and something equally as dirty, but you didn't care, because at least he had _something_ and you had _nothing_. You'd almost given up. He didn't need shirts, or sock and besides, those were grandma presents. You weren't his grandma. You were his girlfriend. The gift had to be special.

How could this be so hard? You'd found Sam a present in September. You'd even gotten Castiel a stupid little trinket you'd thought he'd find amusing but where it came to the guy you friggin' loved, you were stumped.

A frustrated scream passed your lips and you stood straight, shutting the laptop. It was too late to order something off the internet. You'd have to go shopping. You didn't know what shops there were in Lebanon, Kansas, but you had to go and find something.

Dean was in the shooting range working on some new bullets he'd come up with, and Sam was in the kitchen. 'Sam?' You stuck your head around the corner. 'I need to go out.'

'Still struggling with a present for my big brother?' He asked, a hint of a smile on his face as he sliced the knife through his sandwich. You scowled.

'Yeah I am.'

He nodded, taking a seat at the table, reaching over and grabbing the keys to the Impala. 'Take Baby. Maybe she can give you some inspiration.' You caught the keys as he threw them, and stared a little.

'You sure?'

'Dean won't mind. He trusts you.' Sam grinned, then bit into his sandwich, and you smiled back.

'Thanks Sam.' You turned, heading out of the bunker, grabbing your jacket on the way through. 'Inspiration. Inspiration.' You muttered to yourself as you left the bunker and unlocked the Impala. Sliding into the drivers seat, you started the engine, grinning when it roared to life. You loved this car almost as much as Dean did. Who could blame you? She was a classic.

The radio came on, and Dean had left an AC/DC tape in there the last time you'd been out. “Highway To Hell” started playing and you grinned, turning it up a little before pulling the car out of the driveway and onto the back roads into town. As you tapped along to the song, singing under your breath, an idea struck you and you smiled. Dean loved his classic music. Maybe you could remaster a few of these tapes and make them sound better. He wouldn't use CD's and if you so much as mentioned an iPod, he'd probably have an aneurysm, but tapes were okay.

You pulled the Impala over to the side of the road and turned in your seat, reaching over for the big box of tapes he kept in the back, behind the drivers seat. Pulling the box onto your lap, you started to go through them, picking up tape after tape and reading the titles on them. 'Black Sabbath, hmm.' You put that one in the “maybe” pile, before throwing a few in the “no” pile. Removing one that said “The Black Album”, you revealed a plain tape with no title at all. A frown crossed your face as you held it up, inspecting it. There was no label on it, nothing to indicate what it might be.

Pressing the eject button, you took out the AC/DC album, then pushed the unlabelled tape into the deck. The speakers crackled and hissed, then a slow humming started, before a soft melodic female voice started to sing.

_Hey Jude, don't make it bad_

Your eyes widened.

_Take a sad song and make it better_

You knew this song. You'd heard Dean hum it more than once, occasionally catching him singing it under his breath. You'd asked him once what song it was, and he'd told you it was “Hey Jude” by The Beatles. He'd gotten quiet then, and you hadn't wanted to press, but he'd looked at you, sadly, and held you close. _'My mom used to sing it to me.'_ You hadn't said anything else, and he'd held you for a while. This song...this song was possibly all he had left of his mom. Her voice, recorded onto an old tape.

_Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better_

The lyrics were beautiful, and you found yourself sat in the front seat of the Impala, a car Mary Winchester had once sat in, listening to the voice of your boyfriend's dead mother. She sounded beautiful. It was haunting, almost, listening to her. You wished you could have met her at times, or even let her know that you were trying to look out for her boys, love her eldest like he deserved. It wasn't easy at times...but maybe she knew. Maybe she saw all this.

The song continued, fading into an ending, just Mary Winchester's voice and no music. The tape hissed and crackled again, then clicked off and you just sat there. Hot tears touched your eyes, and you wiped your face with your sleeve.

Suddenly you _knew_. This was it. That something special you'd been looking for.

But you couldn't take the tape. In all likelihood, Dean would notice if it was gone, even if he never played it. A spark of an idea burst into your mind and you pulled your phone from your pocket, searching for the recorder. With a triumphant cry, you found it and rewound the tape, playing it again. It took a few attempts, but eventually you had a decent recording, one you could use. You rewound the tape for the final time, then put it back with the others in the box. It wasn't as Dean had left it, but you could always say you'd been looking for something to listen to whilst you were out. It wasn't like he'd question you.

When you arrived back at the bunker, Dean was still in the range, modifying weapons, and Sam was in the library researching something. He looked up as you came in, and you gave him a thumbs up, before swiping your laptop and heading for your room. Whilst you and Dean were together, you didn't share a room all the time, and you liked having your own space, and right now, that was handy as hell. He would probably be in the basement all day, so you could make the most of that time.

Locking the door, you settle on your bed with your headphones, and connected them and your phone to the laptop, loading the program you needed. Once you'd transferred the song onto the computer, you started to modify it, tweaking the sounds. With the technology you knew, it wasn't difficult to program different instruments playing the backing tune. You stuck with simple, knowing that over complicating it would take away from the vocals, but you wanted to add a personal touch, and it required Dean and Sam to be out of the bunker so they didn't overhear anything.

*****

Christmas Day was tomorrow, and you were planning on giving Dean the tape you'd made tonight. The boys had gone out on a hunt, and you'd stayed behind, using the time to rig up your surprise for Dean. Neither Winchester had bothered with a tree or decorations, so whilst they'd been gone, you'd taken care of that, getting a small tree and cheap decorations from the Gas'N'Sip. Sure, you'd tied a couple of Mars bars to the branches because you hadn't been able to find any real chocolate decorations, but it was the thought right?

You couldn't wait to play him the tape. It had taken a good two days, but you'd reworked the tune, taken out the interference from the old recording, cleaned up his mom's already beautiful vocals, and added your own as a backing track. With the addition of the gentle acoustic and piano accompaniment, it was pretty darn perfect. Only now, you were terrified he wouldn't like it. Butterflies had been terrorising your stomach in a violent swirl all day, and you were reduced to pacing the bunker entrance, terrified he might hate you for invading his personal belongings, might hate you for changing something so precious. You'd made sure to put it on a new tape, and tracking down the equipment to record it hadn't been easy. The original tape was where you found it, unaltered. So he couldn't be too mad.

The bunker door clanked and thudded as it opened and Dean traipsed in, followed by Sam. Your breath caught in your throat and you wrung your hands together as the boys looked up at you, one in concern, and one with relief. Dean was at your side in an instant, dropping his duffel to the floor, his arms winding around you to hold you close. 'Sorry it took so long, baby. I missed you.'

'I missed you too.'

'We didn't mean to miss half of Christmas Eve.' Sam said, looking around. 'Did you...did you decorate, Y/N?' You nodded as Dean pulled away, your face a little apprehensive. A few moments passed as the brothers looked at the decorations and moved further into the room. 'Dean, there's a tree! Like, a proper tree. Not a ficus with air fresheners hanging off of it!' Dean moved to his brother's side, the smile splitting his face as he saw what you'd done.

'I couldn't find real tree chocolates though. And the decorations are cheap.' You hugged yourself, unsure of whether you'd made the right choice.

'Mars Bars!' Dean exclaimed, his hand cupping the candy ornament gentle. 'This is perfect, Y/N.' He grinned, moving back towards you and kissing you. 'Seriously. Thank you.'

Sam watched, a stupid grin on his face and you blushed, looking away.

'I have, erm, I have something else for you.' You said quietly. 'I wanted to give you your present now.'

Dean looked between you and Sam, then smirked. 'Is it the sort of present Sam doesn't wanna be here for?' He asked, the smirk growing filthier by the second. 'Cos I've got you a present that might help with that.' You laughed a little, and slapped his arm.

'No. Sam can stay.' Your eyes widened. 'Because it's not _that_ sort of present. It's something...I wanted to do something really special, and I know you hate all that commercial crap, and I was struggling, then I found something and I changed it a little from the original, but I didn't damage the original, that's still where I found it and...'

'Y/N. You're babbling.' Sam pointed out and you took a breath. Dean was looking at you with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

'I found a tape.' You paused. 'In the car. And I wanted to do something _really_ special. If you don't like it, it's okay, I didn't damage the original.'

'Which tape?' Dean asked quietly, looking over at Sam and you smiled weakly.

'Can I just...can I just play it for you? I put it on a tape. I know you don't like CD's or iPods or things like that.' You moved over to the old cassette player on the table, where you'd put the tape earlier. It wasn't the best platform for the music, but it was all you could find at such short notice. Maybe it would sound better in the Impala. If Dean actually _liked_ it.

You felt a little sick with nerves as you pressed play and turned. When the song started, you swear you stopped breathing, as Dean was frozen in place by the Christmas tree, and Sam was leaning against the library table, both of them listening to the music.

_And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain_

_Don't carry the world upon your shoulders_

Dean's eyes shut, and you drew a shaky breath, wondering if he hated it or liked it. You were kinda glad Sam was here too, to hear the song his mom sung for them when they were sick or tired. He deserved it as much as Dean did. The song continued, and you watched, waiting.

_Remember to let her under your skin_

_Then you'll begin to make it better_

The ending started to play out, and Dean took a step forward, towards you, and you dropped your eyes, unsure of his reaction. When his hands enclosed around yours, you looked up, seeing teary green eyes in front of you. He smiled a little, then pressed a kiss to your forehead.

'Thank you.' He whispered. You blinked, unsure of yourself, or him. Sam chose that moment to slip from the room, and you held you breath as Dean pulled you closer. 'That was beautiful, Y/N. It must have taken you forever to do that for me.' He chuckled a little. 'I'd forgotten I even had that tape. I couldn't listen to it. But now, hearing you singing it with my mom...I wish you could have met her. She would have loved you.'

'I just wanted to give you something really special.' You said, a little lost for words. Dean pressed his lips to yours, his thumb and forefinger grasping your chin gently.

'You did. Baby, you have no idea.' He smiled.

 


End file.
